Miss Artwaltz
by Whitewash
Summary: Four Artwaltzes, three stripped of their names. As for Miss Artwaltz, she soon discovers that living away from the family might not have been such a good idea after all. AU, GulcasaxNessiah
1. Strangers and a Tea Party

It was raining. Against the sidewalks and the city streets, the people and their umbrellas and raincoats, the taxis and buses and bus stops, scaffoldings, overhangs, roofs, and windows. The rain beat down on the world, wet, cold, and merciless.

Nessiah pulled the curtains closed and turned around to his unfamiliar new lodging; though it had a certain air of habitation, the entire apartment seemed sterile and alien. It lacked warmth...homeyness, maybe. The sleek, curved, modern design, the stainless steel kitchenware and the pitch-black furniture—he assumed the place to be pre-furnished. He couldn't understand how anyone would want to live in a place like this. This man probably didn't care about where he lived. It made him feel all the more welcome.

"Why am I here?"

Seated on the edge of the black leather couch, Gulcasa tilted his head, as if the answer were obvious. "I can let you back outside, if you want."

He frowned. "Fine then. Why did you bring me to your apartment, then?"

"Because I wanted to."

"That's hardly a reason."

Gulcasa grimaced; despite his obvious restraint, his expression still managed to frighten Nessiah. Gulcasa was a fierce, dark dragon of a man, with impossibly red hair and eyes so amber they were almost gold. "So you'd rather leave, then. Be my guest." He motioned toward the door. "Go."

Nessiah stood still. "Fine," he said.

From the couch, Gulcasa stood up to an imposing stature and impressive height. He looked at Nessiah. "Then what do you want for dinner?"

By Nessiah's frail, diminutive stature, the answer should have been obvious. "Anything."

* * *

Luciana struck the stack of papers down at Aegina's desk with enough ferocity to make the desk shudder. "I can't stand it anymore," she huffed. "I'm sick of this job."

Aegina looked up at her from her desk. "You get plenty of work done, though."

"Does it look like I enjoy doing that?"

"Sometimes."

Luciana growled. "I don't even understand why I'm still working here. He won't treat us like his own kids; he won't acknowledge that we're even related. I don't care how much power he has—he shouldn't have that much power. What happened to our rights?"

"Once Yggdra was—"

"For God's sakes, Aegina, I _know_ that. Don't remind me. It'd be pointless to blame her, though," she groaned. "We've been through that, and I don't want to go through it again." Luciana looked at her twin sister. "Isn't there anything you can do?"

Aegina looked surprised. "Are you asking me?"

"Do you see anyone else in here?"

Aegina frowned. "What do you expect me to do?"

"Treat us like his own family, for one. Look at us—we're stuck at the bottom rung."

"Not necessarily—"

"We have to fight our way to the top even though we're directly related to him. That's what I meant." She folded her arms. "We shouldn't have to do that."

Aegina sank her head into her shoulders and stared at her desk, reluctant. "You know...if you're actually asking me to do something..." she glanced at Luciana. "How much do you think we can get done while still being honest?"

Luciana huffed. "Nothing." She seemed to remember something. "What time is it?"

"Four o' clock."

"Dammit. I have a meeting." Luciana glared at her sister. "Come up with something, will you."

"I can't guarantee anything. It's not something I want to—"

"It's not worth worrying over. Just come up with something," Luciana snapped, stomping out of her office.

She slammed the door behind her, and Aegina flinched.

Come up with something...like what?

* * *

A long time ago, the Verlaines had a dispute. The dispute ended in the Verlaines' estate being split into two halves—one belonged to the Esmeraldas, the other to the Brantheses. Whoever had the Verlaine name or some other name consequently moved out of the estate, disgusted by that part of the family's wanton little argument. The rivalry continued on through the generations, until a certain situation brought the two sides of the family together for a brief period of time. It had something to do with a distant relative of Yggdra's, a young man named Nessiah Aries Artwaltz, good friends of her friends, Roswell Branthese and Rosary Esmeralda. While Yggdra had never met the young man, she knew Roswell and Rosary very well.

So it shouldn't have been any surprise that they invited her over for tea at the Branthese estate—apparently Roswell had lost some sort of bet to see who would host the gathering. It was only she, Roswell, and Rosary, however, so it seemed that the bet had just been another one of their familial spats...something she herself would never understand.

The Brantheses' breakfast room was luxurious, painted with dark, swarthy, pastel blues and purples. It was moody, but in a proud, regal way, as if it believed it had been born to be moody and no one could convince it otherwise. The tables themselves were covered in gray tablecloths, and all the furniture was a deep, dark mahogany color, matching perfectly with the room's cool, rich hues. This room was in direct contrast with the Esmeraldas' on the other side of the estate, whose breakfast room was full of whites and warm reds, though to Yggdra they both appeared very prideful.

"Remember when we did this with Nessiah? The three of us? You picked on him so much..."

"I did not. I loved Nessiah."

"And that's why you picked on him. You just wanted to assure yourself that there was someone frailer and paler than you."

"That wasn't it at all!"

"Oh? Then what was it?"

"Nessiah was my very dear friend." This was stated with a confidence Yggdra rarely heard out of Roswell, and it surprised her.

She walked into the room, looking a little...taken aback. "Am I interrupting something?"

Sure enough, sitting in the center of the room, at opposite sides of the table, were Roswell and Rosary. They were both beautiful people—gods on earth—and their airs of pride and confidence made them tantalizing, intriguing, mysterious...sensual. These qualities made them extremely intimidating to talk to, but when they disagreed on something, they always had the other to check them. The rare times they managed to cooperate, however, they could be devastating.

They denied she was interrupting anything and welcomed her in, however, and so she took a seat at the table. Yggdra was nervous, skittish; she shouldn't have been, but she was. They had just been talking about Nessiah, hadn't they? Something was off about their expression... They both stared at her dreamily, as if she were someone else.

"Are you sure I'm not in the way of anything?" Yggdra asked once again.

That brought them out of their trance.

"Oh, no," said Roswell awkwardly.

"No..."

"Nothing at all," they chorused, staring at her with blank, surprised looks.

"But it _is_ Nessiah you were talking about," she ventured.

They glanced at each other.

"Well, yes," said Roswell, "but..."

"Ignore the man, Yggdra," Rosary hummed. "He can't get over the fact Nessiah left us."

"But why?"

They stared at her, shocked.

"They didn't tell you?" Roswell asked.

Yggdra shook her head, anxious now. "N...no?"

"She doesn't live with her parents, idiot," Rosary snapped. "Why would they tell her anything?"

"I thought they... Then...she doesn't..."

"Shut up already!"

"Rosary...? Roswell?" Yggdra glanced back and forth between the bickering cousins, who were leaning over the table and arguing in harsh, low tones. "Are you..."

Roswell finally noticed Yggdra. Embarrassed, he mumbled, "I must dearly apologize. That was probably something you would rather not have seen."

Yggdra was troubled. "Um..."

"Drop it," Rosary grunted. "She doesn't need to hear any more of this nonsense."

"All right," Yggdra said quietly, crinkling her skirts. "Then..."

"Then," Roswell grumbled, "we should be getting the _tea_ by now." He pushed himself out of his seat. "I'll go see what's taking so long, damned kitchen..."

Once he left, Yggdra found herself alone with Rosary.

"What?" asked Rosary. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"I'm not..." Yggdra struggled with her words, "his...replacement, am I?"

"Nessiah's?" Rosary asked. "No," she knit her brow, "no, not at all! We were just remembering something, that's all. It's just easier to reminisce when two experiences seem to reflect each other..." She shook her head dismissively. "Something like that. Never mind. Ignore that nonsense."

"So I am," Yggdra said nervously.

Rosary was exasperated. "You're not. You're a girl, and you acted nothing like him. I don't know why Roswell was so fascinated with him; he babbled on too much about things I didn't understand. He's not the kind of person you'd want to invite to tea, but Roswell insisted. They got along better than I did with Nessiah." She shrugged. "But it's not like it matters anymore."

"What happened?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you. I don't know why, but I'm not, and I don't want to test their patience or my luck," said Rosary. "Roswell might be willing to tell you." She sighed. "I bet he'd think that telling you might bring him back."

"Oh..." Yggdra said quietly.

"The jam, they were out of apricot jam!" Roswell groaned, gesticulating wildly as he walked back into the room. "Forget about the jam already; just get us the food! Am I really that terrifying? Does it really look like I'd care that much about the jam? We have a thousand other varieties—"

"Roswell, I'd like you to know you are a terrifying beast," Rosary remarked snidely.

"Oh no, you are far scarier," Roswell retorted, pulling his seat back out to sit in it. "Was there anything I missed?"

Rosary smiled. "No, nothing."

Roswell looked at Yggdra, whose expression was the absolute opposite of Rosary's. "Are you sure about that?"

"It wasn't anything important," Yggdra mumbled.

Roswell frowned, unconvinced. "If you say so..."


	2. Brandy

Aegina did not have alcohol in her refrigerator. This was because she never drank. There was water, and milk, and, on occasion, soda, but never alcohol. She never saw the point of it, drinking. It would always be one of those things that separated her from her sister. This wasn't to say she didn't _like_ her sister, but Luciana could be brash and violent. They had no parents—they had no parents, so people relied on Aegina to take care of her twin sister's mood swings and oft-erratic behavior. This put her in the very uncomfortable position of surrogate mother. In other words, Aegina would not allow Luciana to drink while she was around; when she was drunk, she was worse than before. So Aegina didn't have alcohol in her refrigerator. It wasn't worth it.

In contrast to her sister, her apartment was somewhat messy. She was lax about cleaning, so papers were always strewn about, things were always in disarray, and she never paid attention to any of it because she was always so stressed. She couldn't handle being bossed around by her sister, and _then_ being bossed around by other people to boss Luciana around, and then having Luciana realize that she did something wrong again, and attempt to make up for it in a veritable myriad of unsuccessful ways; this was her life, and she couldn't handle it. Luciana was a windstorm, she was the unlucky storm spotter, and while people never blamed her, she eventually received the brunt of the abuse, anyway. If it wasn't through other people, and if it wasn't through Luciana, it was through guilt. She wanted to do something, but she was confused about what to do.

But surely, this time wasn't different. This time Luciana wouldn't do anything, just as she hadn't done anything all those dozens of times before. Even if she ranted and raved about it, she didn't have the brains, the gall, to stand up to their father and demand to be included as a part of the family again. She knew they risked losing their jobs, having all communications from the Artwaltzes cut off by any means the family could muster. Luciana didn't always consider those minute details when she was in a rage, though, and Aegina figured all she could do was brave the storm. It might not have even been worth it to see it through—maybe she should try to stop her—but as long as Luciana didn't do anything then Aegina would just resign herself to fate. Nothing bad could possibly happen, nothing bad would possibly happen, nothing good would happen, nothing at all would happen. It would be another one of those fruitless maneuvers, and soon it would be all over.

She clutched the neck of her new bottle of brandy, poured herself a glass, gulped it down, and then slammed the glass down on the table, feeling it burn down her throat. She didn't even like brandy. Luciana didn't even come. What the hell was she up to now, because Aegina really couldn't take it anymore.

* * *

A/N: I...really have no idea where this story's going. Well, I do, somewhat, actually. But I'm sure you do, too.


	3. Hangover

"_By the way, I'm so sorry I didn't come. I completely forgot; I was...working."_

_"I'm sure you were working on something."_

_"You don't sound so good... Are you OK?"_

_"No."_

_"Are you...sure you want to come, then? I won't make you—"_

_"I'm coming."_

_"Really, you don't have to. I can take care of this by myself."_

_"I'm coming. You can't."_

_"When I said I could, I meant it."_

_"You can't. You need me. You know that."_

_"But you really don't sound that good—"_

_"What time did you say you'd be there?"_

_"T-ten..."_

Aegina slammed her cell phone down onto her nightstand and swore, her head pounding. There was no stopping her, was there? She set her alarm clock for nine-thirty and fell back onto her bed. Luciana could wait.

* * *

The little corner café they said they would meet at was by no means conspicuous, but they agreed on the food and the atmosphere. It had its own regulars, the Artwaltz twins being two of them, and was fairly popular. Today it was a little more subdued. But Aegina could scarcely tell; she was groggy and irritable, and all she could see was her sister's uneasy face. They treated each other that way.

"You look...terrible," said Luciana with a frown. "What were you doing last night?"

"Drinking."

Luciana's frown grew deeper. "Don't tell me you actually bought it..."

"I didn't have anything to do with it. So I drank it. And you never came."

"I know, but you didn't..."

"I did."

"Is it my fault?"

"It is."

"Everything's my fault," Luciana said ruefully. "It's always the same with you. If you would just tell me what you were thinking—"

"Luciana, you never _listen_. Whenever you try, you always manage to misinterpret what I'm saying. I don't know whether it's intentional or not," she groaned, "but if you're going to try to help me, you better ask how. You're going to ruin my life at some point."

"I'm... I think I'm getting there," said Luciana bleakly.

"What did you want to talk about?" Aegina asked, dismissing the matter.

"I-I don't think we should be talking about this right now..."

"Now what?"

"You're not in the best mood—"

"Am I ever?"

"It's the brandy."

"It's the brandy." Aegina groaned, rubbing her head. "And it's you. I'm so sick of it all. I couldn't even finish the bottle."

"You would've drunk yourself to death!"

"You're going to stress me to death."

"It's always my fault. But you never tell me how I can help you."

"That's because I don't think you can."

"But you'd still listen to me?"

"It's what I've grown used to... It's what I live for." Aegina looked away, ashamed of saying so. "What else do I have?"

"A...a lot, I'm sure," Luciana said, riddled with uncertainty. "I...I really don't know."

"You never know. How do our conversations always come to this?"

"It's the brandy speaking, probably."

"I know my head hurts. But I can still think clearly."

"No, you're moody and irritable."

"Luciana, I always am. Just in varying degrees. Now tell me what you were thinking of."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't like seeing you like this."

Aegina stared at her, incredulous. "Since when have you not seen me like this?"

"No," Luciana said, "I don't know what it is, but you're obviously not in the mood."

"I'm _never_ in the mood," Aegina said, exasperated, "I just do whatever you tell me to because I don't know what else I'm supposed to do."

"I know," said Luciana, "I know that. I know that. I'm not so stupid I can't see that you're frustrated. But I don't know what you want. I can't give it to you if I don't know what you actually want."

"I want a break and some time to myself."

"Then why don't you take some time off?"

"I have too much work."

"That's not the kind of mentality you need for a break."

"But I want a break."

"Then take one. You're never absent. You're a workaholic; I bet they'd be happy that you're finally taking care of yourself."

"I'm tired." Aegina sank onto the table. "I'm really, really tired."

"Do you want a break or not?" Luciana sounded confused.

"I don't know what I want."

"Do you want me to give you something?"

"What?"

"I..." Luciana shrugged. "I don't know."

"Pay for this."

"All right..." Luciana frowned. "Is that enough?"

"I'll think of something. But leave it alone for now. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"OK."

Aegina was sick of all her schemes, but she could never tell her. It was too much work, convincing people. Even if she hated herself, it was much easier to see them walk away satisfied than have them notice something was wrong with her and start bothering her about it. Sometimes she wondered if Luciana would be any better off without her drudge of a twin sister. At the very least, Aegina would stop doing work, and Luciana would stop relying on her to do work.

She was quiet for a moment. Then, she asked, "Do you think he would ever change his mind?"

"He wouldn't. I'm sure of it."

"Not even if we asked? We've never asked."

"He wouldn't. Why would he?"

"We've given him time. Why?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "_Why_ won't he accept us?"

"Because he's a stubborn bastard and probably would've let us die on the streets for all he cared, if he hadn't finally decided he owed his own two kids something. I don't care if Yggdra's the heir. We don't get any of the same privileges We're nothing. We're nothing to him."

"There's absolutely nothing that sets us apart," Aegina said, "except for you." She looked at Luciana.

"I know..." said Luciana, turning her head to stare down at the table. "It's all your fault."

* * *

A/N: So, finally, that part's done. The fun stuff comes next chapter...ish. However these are organized.


End file.
